


To Be Seen (And To See)

by Pepsi (Pepsiiii)



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Eventual Romance, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Hypnos is very lonely and that breaks my heart, M/M, Mutual Pining, Zagreus is very stupid sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27275716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepsiiii/pseuds/Pepsi
Summary: “You have ears.” Zagreus almost whispers.“What?”“You have ears.” He says again. More confidently this time.“Ha? Yeah, I suppose I do! What?”“You have ears Hypnos. I didn’t realize.”OR; 5 times Zagreus notices something about Hypnos and 1 time Hypnos notices something back.
Relationships: Hypnos/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 108
Kudos: 562





	1. To Be Heard and To Hear

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, LISTEN. 
> 
> Hades is so fucking fun and I adore Hypnos. It's damn near a crime we can't feasibly romance him in the game but that won't stop me from writing as my heart demands more content. 
> 
> As a little background for this fic, I had been playing and noticed that Hypnos had ears, and for some reason that threw me off COMPLETELY. It never occurred to me that he had ears, I thought his hair hid them or just had a total absence. Yet, there they are. Massive too. It's adorable.

(1)

“Everything okay my, and excuse my familiarity, good Prince of Hell Zagreus?”

He was staring. Hypnos doesn't know _why_ Zagreus was staring at him as if he had somehow changed the red river of Styx into a lighter shade of peach, or perhaps a spring blue no different from the oceans he’s seen in the dreams he tours in his free time, but he was. He was staring at him (or perhaps at the wall since his eyes were looking a little bit to a left, a little too far to be looking straight at Hypnos but close enough to where he was definitely looking at him in _some capacity)_ and Hypnos would be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, a least a little.

“Hypnos.”

“Yes? Prince of Hell? Wow… those witches really did a number on you didn’t they? You’ve just been staring at me!”

Maybe he thought Hypnos was pretty. Hypnos was pretty (he knew he was good looking, maybe not to the extent of the regal god of death and _wonderful_ brother Thanatos or the literal being of all night and darkness, his mother— but he wasn’t lacking. Well, not, not in any way _visually_ at least). So maybe that’s why Zagreus was staring at him so hard, and maybe that’s why the room felt hotter (if that was possible in hell) and perhaps, and this is just a simple theory, maybe that’s why Hypnos wanted to lounge a little less and stand for once. Good posture and all that. 

Maybe it was-

“You have ears.”

_That's a new one._

“What?”

“ _You have ears.”_

“Ha? Yeah, I do! _What_?”

“You have ears Hypnos. I didn’t realize.”

What? _What_? 

“Did you think I just couldn’t hear you? I know I sleep a lot but I can hear what’s going on around me! Lip reading is difficult with my eyes closed after all.”

Zagreus seemed to process the response a bit slowly. A moment or so later he (almost as imitating the giant hellhound only a few paces away from their very spot) tilts his head in question and speaks some more. 

“Well… yes. But, I didn’t… I never noticed that you… do they work?” He asks, confident as ever. As if that was a question that was valid to ask. As it Hypnos ever gave any indication he was a being without fully functional ears. 

_“Do they work?_ ”

“Yes, do they?” Zagreus parrots back. 

“The fact that we’re having a conversation right now should answer your question.” 

Zagreus blinks and Hypnos doesn’t (he usually doesn’t. Just to throw others off. No one really looks anyway but it gets a nice reaction out of some of the more squeamish shades coming in) as they stare at each other. Hypnos is smiling and trying very hard to not laugh in the face of his boss's kid, feeling his face heat up at the same time. 

“Excuse my prying but, have you always had them? I swear you didn’t have those prior to now.” 

Zagreus— stupid, _stupid,_ Zagreus. With those big bright eyes; toned abs and giant chest Hypnos was dying to touch; the bright flaming feet that left stains on the very hard to clean lobby carpet; The prince of hell with a heart of gold and ass of iron. The idiot. Hypnos, in a moment of pure bewilderment, thought about straightening up, leaning down and kissing him as softly as possible, if only to taste pure, undiluted stupidity fresh from the most prestigious fountain in all of hell. 

This might be what humans described as ' _love at first sight'_. Hypnos would be unsurprised to see Aphrodite walk out into the lobby now, clad in nothing but her own skin and hair, laughing happily as her spell and romance swirled in the air between them like some sort of heavy fog— suffocating Hypnos in the _best_ possible ways. 

“I swear on my life, or lack thereof, that I have had ears since creation. You can ask my mother if you don’t believe me.” 

Yet Zagreus didn’t ask anything, nor did he walk over to where his mother was patiently stationed in the corner of the hall, tucked behind her favorite pillars (so close and yet, even only a few feet away, always so terribly distant from the tired god) he just stared a bit more and let his eyes roam over Hypnos a bit more, taking him in. Seeing him, almost as if for the first time.

(Seeing how they grew up together, the thought of that being true frightened Hypnos in ways he wasn’t exactly trying to articulate right now. To be seen and ignored is one thing, but to be overlooked _entirely?_ By someone who seemingly paid attention to, and liked everyone, ever _?_ That was a thought he wouldn’t— no, couldn't in good faith, allow thoughts like that to sit just... festering) 

But the moment, like all good things within Hypnos’ life at this point, was ruined by his boss threatening him with eternal damnation or something to that effect if he didn’t get back to his post and scribe. Zagreus apologizes for distracting him (as if _every time_ he walks by, _every time_ he appears, _every time_ he’s gone for a tad too long, _every time_ he looks at Hypnos in any capacity isn’t a distraction _inherently_ ) and walks away with a wave towards his chambers. 

And if Hypnos feels his hands graze his ear absently for the following day (or night _—whatever_ ) during his shift at his post, feeling an unusually soft warmth fill him every time his thumb grazes the skin, no one has to know. 

  
  



	2. To Be Leaned On and To Lean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re tall.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> He really had to come up with better responses to Zagreus’ more abrupt conclusions about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came out very quickly because I am a sucker for comments and as such felt an unparalleled motivation to write more. I cannot wait to get deeper into this story. Thank you for all the kind words with the previous chapter!

(2) 

“You’re  _ tall _ .”

“What?”

He really had to come up with better responses to Zagreus’ more abrupt conclusions about him. 

Saying ‘ _ what’  _ every time something obvious about him was pointed out would get old  _ fast _ and, this is a bit important in the grand scheme of things (Hypnos is a sucker for romance and balance—all that good, gushy stuff), Zagreus was obviously not the brightest flame in the crimson depths ( _ literal fire feet be damned _ ) so Hypnos couldn’t take that spot from him. A relationship of two idiots was just a slow-moving orgy in Olympus and Hypnos wanted to be anything but. 

“Wait— let me try that again. Walk back over here and do it again.”

Zagreus was still dripping, just a bit (enough to stain the damn carpet at least. Poor Dusa), and stared  _ up  _ at him. 

“Go back?”

“Yes please dear prince of hell and all things dead! Please go back so I can try this again.”

“Into the blood?”

“Well actually, funny story, it isn’t actually blood if you’ll believe it!”

Zagreus stared  _ up _ and squinted a bit. Hypnos stares back, unblinking as usual, and smiles while motioning to the pool with his head. 

“It’s definitely blood. I’ve tasted it.”

Hypnos laughs (because what the fuck else can he do with an answer like that?) and feels his comforter-turned-travel-blanket fall off his shoulder a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s blood. Anyway—” Hypnos claps his hands and once again motions to the pool of, now confirmed, blood. The carpet was less damp and full of blood and more scorched and faintly turned to ashes with blood burned into the furs. It was almost comforting in a way. Mainly dirty and hard to look at, but almost comforting. 

Hypnos usually wasn’t  _ standing  _ so he usually didn’t even feel the carpet but now that he  _ is standing  _ (put a pin in that for now) he can say with confidence that it’s a very,  _ very  _ nice carpet— ash, blood, and darkness be damned. 

“Go. Please?”

Zagreus rolls his eyes and in an instant, Hypnos knows he’s got him. Is it wrong that his heart beats a bit faster at the soft smirk that forms on Zagreus’ face as he begins to turn around? If so, Hypnos suddenly regrets that he’s built his entire personality off the fact he’s always right and always giving the best, most useful advice possible. 

“Chop chop! I need to do this right! From the top Mr!”

Zagreus returns to the pool, bumping into the incoming shades as he passes, and eventually gets back into the blood (even dipping his head under for good measure. He’s perfect. Hypnos feels sick). This time when he walks back, ruining them carpet all over again, Hypnos is good and ready. 

“You’re  _ tall _ .”

“No my dear ‘boss’ son’ of mine, you're  _ short.  _ Very!”

Zagreus laughs. 

Excuse the pause but this is something Hypnos thinks about often— Zagreus has a beautiful laugh. Hypnos has read in poems; sometimes heard in stories that someone can hear the laugh of their beloved (god- imagine, Zagreus  _ his  _ beloved) and compare the sound to that of heaven’s bells. The sound of laughter filled (laced? Drenched in? Bloodied with?) with love rising into the air sounding like bells was something humans said often but Hypnos didn’t get it. 

No instrument could ever really convey what he was hearing. Not accurately at least. Bells were far too human for a god (god-ling?) such as Zagreus. Maybe the trumpets of damnation or the gongs that rang out as a soul was torn apart. Perhaps the cough of a guy too polite to butt into a conversation already going on, but nosy enough to listen in. Maybe the sigh of a man who’s died more times than any creature ever should and yet still smiles as if everything would all be okay. Those things may be more accurate … but nothing could  _ really _ describe the sound. 

Other than  _ enchanting _ , if Hypnos was to muse aloud.

“I never noticed how tall you were… I suppose I’ve never seen you … standing before…. have I?”

“Mm.. how long have we known each other?”

Zagreus frowns a bit and brings his hand up to count on it.

“Haha ouch! Don’t answer that! But I suppose I am somewhat tall.”

Hypnos leans back on the wall behind him. He’s already a bit winded from this conversation and the way Zagreus is looking at him (if he had to describe it, and this is terribly depressing, it reminds him a bit of how he looks at his brother or Megaera) isn’t helping.

“You’re taller than Thanatos aren't you?” 

“I’ve been taller than my brother for … a  _ very _ long time. You’d never know though!”

Unless you looked at him, or something  _ blasphemous _ like that. 

“Guess I haven’t noticed.”

“Suppose not! Have you tried looking at me? I hear that can help change the perceptions one has on another’s physical form!”

Zagreus smiles more (he didn’t ever really stop but Hypnos enjoyed keeping track of every time a new one started) and has a look in his eye. Hypnos would be a liar if he said he didn’t like it a little. He would also be insane to think it a thought that was anything positive or noteworthy in the slightest (since Zagreus is seemingly incapable of noticing or thinking in ways Hypnos would expect most people of their standing to. Nothing wrong with that,  _ always has to be dull flames _ , but damn— it’s unexpected.

“I’ll be sure to look harder from now on then, okay Mate?”

Was that a  _ flirt _ ? A  _ promise _ ? Sounded like a  _ threat  _ to Hypnos. 

Hypnos was already horribly attracted to those who didn’t give a damn about him— assuming they even knew he existed (which, to be fair, most didn’t… for a lack of trying usually), so to be  _ threatened  _ so openly, so easily, so …. so ‘ _ Zagreus-ly’ _ was doing terrible things to his mind. Once again, his heart is acting as if this was something worth flipping over, as if his life wasn’t actively in danger, as if his world wasn’t reforming from one smirk and  _ threat _ , as if—

“Oh? Guess I’ll have to give you something to see huh?”

What?  _ What _ ? Did Hypnos speak? He doesn’t remember signing off on  _ speaking—  _ let alone replying back to a life-endangering threat such as the one he just heard. His brain was a lot like the beautiful, blood-stained lobby he worked in day-in, and night-out. The most important thoughts were stamped and thrown into a pile in the back called “no one cares about what I’m saying so don’t speak about something important” while the interesting ( _ at least he thought they were) _ quips and helpful ( _ at least he thought they were) _ pieces of advice were signed off and sent straight to the mouth to be vocalized for any poor shade (or prince of hell) to hear. 

He didn’t sign off on that. That was not his. Someone up there was getting fired,  _ literally _ . 

“I’ll look forward to that.  _ Literally _ .”

Flames and darkness this was going in a direction Hypnos wasn’t expecting. A one-sided direction that Zagreus wasn’t at all privy to, nor understanding (the humble prince of hell wasn’t flirting, that was for damn sure) of. It was something Hypnos couldn’t begin to explain or stop. He was along for the ride, no different from a nice ride on his brother’s gondola down the never-ending river surrounding them on all sides. 

( _ Funny story, _ Hypnos will explain more later, but he was actually banned from riding in that boat. Or touching it. Or coming anywhere near it. It broke his heart, sure, but the story for _ why  _ was admittedly very funny to everyone but Hypnos so— it held some merit. The long and short of it was: Hypnos-  _ attempts- _ to learn how to swim) 

“Not more than I will.” And with that final life-altering response, Zagreus smirks a bit heartier and walks off towards the west hall. Probably to go tell his bloody teacher about how he killed Hypnos without laying a single finger on him. Truly, a protege in the arts of bodily harm. 

Hypnos didn’t want to say he was into it but he was sickeningly, wretchedly, horridly into it. 

  
(He tries to chat with Dusa as she cleans up the blood and burns on the carpet but his tongue and brain are not currently connected. Unfortunate but true, the poor woman stuck hearing nothing but incompressible noise from the previously ‘god of sleep’ now turned  _ ‘god of being fucking dead on his feet’ _ )

If anyone notices Hypnos _standing_ and _actually walking places_ for once, no one comments. 

(But then again, no one notices anyway)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, HMU on twt @MrsHaiiba ! I draw too.


	3. To Be Felt (And To Feel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regardless of what everyone around him thinks (or says, or implies or threatens with or yells about or renounces him for—) Hypnos is currently employed and working within the unholy halls of The House of Hades. He isn’t a freeloader, he doesn’t— purposefully— lower productivity (once again, regardless of what his family may say) within the house, and he isn’t getting enjoyment out of his apparent misuse of his station.

(3)

Hypnos has a job. 

Regardless of what everyone around him thinks (or says, or implies or threatens with or yells about or renounces him for—) Hypnos is currently employed and working within the unholy halls of _The House of Hades._ He isn’t a freeloader, he doesn’t— _purposefully—_ lower productivity (once again, regardless of what his family may say) within the house, and he isn’t getting enjoyment out of his apparent misuse of his station. 

Truthfully (and Hypnos was known for his truth) he quite liked his job. Slow at it, _very very slow_ , but he enjoyed it. 

He didn’t know what that was such a problem anyway. Like, sure, _arguably_ it was important to work as efficiently and productively as physically possible all the time— forever, but that just wasn’t realistic. 

_Also_ , even if Hypnos was the fastest worker in hell, it doesn’t even _matter._ It’s _Hell._ It isn’t like the line of never-ending shades is ever going to actually shrink or anything! He could work at a breakneck speed for the rest of time and never make a dent. _Not even a little bit_ (since his darling brother insists on not taking his advice and just … killing all the humans at once). 

More importantly than that, they had _forever!_ Dead humans were not in demand— _anywhere_! It wasn’t like how the gods in charge of constantly moving things had to stay on top of their work (lest the fucking sun fell out of the sky or something). The process of death was a one-way street 9.9 times out of 10. There was absolutely no rush. Yet everyone acted as if there was. 

Hypnos never acted as if he was the next Hermès or anything. He wasn’t pretending to be a being of all-knowing power and insane working capabilities. He never pretended to be more than what he was— even if said pretending really could’ve helped right about now. He was given a job by a guy who knows exactly what kinda worker he could be ( _it wasn’t like his official godly status and recognized title gave it away, or anything_ ) and still got hired. 

But, it was fine. Hypnos liked his job. He couldn’t complain much (even if it seemed like he could) because he was thankful for the never-ending work he has. Also, he got to work around his family. That was always a treat (even if he never really saw them). 

Anyway, Hypnos has a job. Hypnos likes his job. He was currently doing his job. 

“W… what happened to me?” One of the million newly realized shades asked him. It was the usual day (or night he supposed) because like usual he was tasked with making sure every shade was documented and counted for.

It was also the usual because as usual, _he_ tasked himself with making sure each shade was heard, even if for a moment. 

“You’re dead!—” as he begins his bright introduction he notices her terrified expression. Heartbroken, more accurately. He tries again. “My condolences”. 

Hypnos knew that the whole death process for most people on earth would be… ‘extremely underwhelming’ _at best_ and ‘extremely overwhelming’ _at worst_ . The whole process was somehow (at least he imagines from what he’s been told through his many, many, _many_ conversations with the passing shades he counseled) the slowest and most rushed. They died—

(he always hoped that it wasn’t too painful, his shades were always the 92% (normal, decent people). The other 1% of heroes and 1% of utter human trash went straight to their pre-chosen destinations without needed documentation from Hypno)

—and then are taken on the Styx river towards the brimstone walls of the House of Hades all in one sitting without any questions asked— or answered. It was a constant to have people who died far too young or far too early in his line. They always fret over those they left above or what was even going on. It was hard to watch. _Really fucked up his mood_! 

So, with all this in mind, Hypnos did his damnedest to smooth the transition out even a bit. Just a little. 

He may not be as fast and precise as the ever-present Thanatos (who works far too much in Hypnos’ opinion. He hates seeing his brother so damn swamped all the time, it isn’t healthy. Or right) nor as diligent and sub-servant as the timid Dusa (she always works too much too. He worries for her almost as much as his brother) but he was working. And, if his customer reviews said anything, he was doing a good job too!

“You aren’t very good at your job are you?” Zagreus laughs out as he walks by, dripping as usual (commanding Hypnos’ attention like usual).

“Hahaha ow! Ouch! _Owie_! You really know how to kill a guy don’t you, my good prince—except for that bloody Bone Hydra! You just can’t seem to kill that one!” 

Zagreus laughs but it sounds a bit clipped, a bit forced, a bit fake. Hypnos ignores this (he would rather not but, duty calls) and sends a bright smile the prince’s way, and goes back to listening to the current shade softly crying in front of him. 

“Sorry for the interruption! Anyway, I have no doubt your children will be fine, just look at you! A strong mother like you only raises strong kids! But, should you want to check in on them, we have customized mirrors to the mortal realm in the layer you’ll be residing in. If you just look at this pamphlet i'll explain _everything_ —” Hypnos continues on, ignoring the feeling of a glare burning his back. 

Zagreus walks a bit and turns the corner, leaving Hypnos’ field of sight entirely.

  
  


-

“Master Hades! You summoned me?”

Hades glares down at the smaller god in the middle of the lobby for all to see.

“Truthfully master, you don’t need to yell _so_ loud, yaknow? I love your voice— all booming and terrifying with its ironclad authority and everything, but I do work _right there._ Directly in front of you!”

Hades continues to glare and Hypnos continues to speak. They have wonderful chemistry like that.

“Again, I love it when you call me over here! Honestly the highlight of my days and nights or whatever it is we’re living through right now! But, yaknow I just, haha wow you sure do stare a lot, sir… it’s making me blush! _Hahaha_ —”

“ _Hypnos_.”

“Yes? Lord master Hades? Dearest boss of mine?”

“What have I told you about fraternizing with the incoming shades?”

Hypnos rather likes being able to exist so for once he attempts to hold his tongue.

“ _Not to?_ ”

Hades, in a moment of anger perhaps, bangs his fist on his giant desk and startles everyone around them. Hypnos tries not to jump a bit but is unsuccessful. He thinks he hears the sound of bare feet walking past.

He ignores that.

“ _Exactly_ . So explain why I look up every moment of every day and find myself subjected to the misuse of time known as _‘Hypnos’_?”

Haha ow, fuck? Ow. _‘Misuse of time known as Hypnos_ ’. Holy shit. Wow. 

“I’m sorry boss I just…”

And Hypnos was usually pretty careful about his words. But maybe it was the dancing flames on the walls, or maybe the new bone tassels the contractors put in the week prior that made him want to be more careful. _Sentimental_ , perhaps.

“I just… death is scary— _I’d imagine_. Is it so wrong of me to want to smooth the transition, just a bit? It’s the least I can do for them and, I don’t know about you sir, but I’d be grateful for a bit of compassion once everything I’ve ever known was ripped away from me in a single instance…. or something.”

Hypnos at that moment thinks about how Zagreus probably gets his tendency to stare from his father. They both just _stare and stare…_

“If you must keep up this… _compassion_ of yours, quicken your pace. _Do not make me call you like this again.”_

“Yes sir! Of course! Thank you! Did I say I love you? I do!”

“Leave me Hypnos.” And with that, Hypnos is sent back to his post. 

If he heard a whisper of ‘ _she would’ve loved you’_ come from his boss’ desk as he floated away he would never confirm nor deny. 

If he felt some, less glary and more curious, eyes staring at his back as he went along, whispering to himself ‘ _Hypnos and compassion…’_ — he would, once again, never confirm nor deny. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I think about how much everyone hates Hypnos I get more upset. If that isn't obvious enough here. EVEN ZAG PISSES ME OFF NOW it's KILLING ME


	4. To be Upsetting and To Upset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know if Zagreus hates me? You’re like a father to him, if anyone were to know the prince’s deepest secrets it would be you! Or my mom.”
> 
> Achilles signs. Hypnos feels himself grow more tired.
> 
> “He definitely doesn’t hate you. I can assure you that. On my pride and my honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So honestly guys my thoughts on this story and ship has changed drastically since I first started writing this and because of that, I apologize if the story seems to seemingly go off the rails or the romance doesn't seem as... romantic. I still love Hypnos/Zagreus but now that I've played more of the game My view on the ship has shifted a bit more to the right and my work reflects that. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this with that in mind

“I didn’t know you could cry.” Zagreus says when he accidentally stumbles on a crumpled up form in the back of the employee break room (the very back, far away from where shades tend to go because they’re shades and don’t comprehend the idea of testing the limits of the un-mortal plane known as the House of Hades. They’re  _ shades) _ . 

Said form is Hypnos, if that wasn’t obvious enough by the obvious observation trap they’ve found themselves stuck in for weeks. Usually, it’s cute; usually, it’s even kinda romantic ( _ah… he’s finally looking… noticing…_ _ seeing _ _Hypnos as an entity separate from his post_ ); sometimes it feels like friendship or something akin to it. 

Today it’s just grating.

“Zag, buddy, I gotta admit. You have a shit sense of timing, if you’ll excuse my language.”

“Sorry. But, well, I didn’t.”

“Well, now you do.  _ Congrats _ ! Now can you go?” 

And Zagreus, to the utter dismay of Hypnos and his suffering mental state, frowned and left as quickly as he came. Never had Hypnos hated an obedient man more than he did as those flaming feathers followed him out the door then. 

-

Hypnos doesn’t exactly  _ blame himself— _ but after that little meeting (or lack thereof) their tentative bond had suddenly cracked. It was a hairline one but gods, it was there. Like an almost invisible line between them had been drawn, it was there. The air was different. The pool of blood (water, _whatever the fuck it was_ ) didn’t seem as bright as usual, the comments after a death were no longer tailor-made for each situation (the breathy laugh about being pulverized by a crystal beam turned into a polite “ _ Welcome to the house of hades!” _ ) and Zagreus had stopped attempting to talk like before.

Long gone are the cutesy conversations between them as the shades lingered around them, chilling the smoldering air. Now, at best, the briefest of hellos was shared. Usually, and this was the worst, Hypnos greets and Zagreus glances as he passes by silently (or stands in front of him staring endlessly for 5 minutes or so before he seemingly runs out of patience or has something to do, choosing to walk through the new opening in the wall into the lounge area). 

So he’s alone again. _ It is great _ . Zagreus isn’t speaking to him and apparently, he’s getting terribly close to his brother and mother as of late.  _ It is great _ . So great.

Once again, he is in the break room. Not sobbing on the ground this time, but the break room no less. 

Achilles is there too. As if that is supposed to mean much of anything to Hypnos. 

Hypnos didn’t feel much of anything for Achilles. He thought the shade was a bit sad (gods, just look at the guy! He was so… yaknow…  _ lonely _ ! And that’s coming from the most hated guy in the whole house!) and a bit rude at times but he also knew of his dreams before and after his employment at the house. He knew a lot about the great fallen hero. It was all quite tragic. Hypnos hadn’t seen such dark nightmares in a while…. 

But, Hypnos didn’t particularly give a damn though— so he digresses. 

“Hello, Hypnos.” Says a perpetually tired Achilles. He is sipping, tiredly, at a little bottle of some strange yellow liquid. It seems to sparkle within its container, bringing a smile to Achilles’ face.

Hypnos feels a bit sickly.

“My dearest coworker Achilles! Hello! How are you?”

“Oh, you know—” Hypnos  _ doesn’t _ . “Same old, same old.”

“Ah, I’m sure standing aimlessly in front of a dusty mirror for all of eternity does get rather boring quickly. I feel you buddy!” 

Hypnos does enjoy messing with Achilles a bit. The guy was fun to tease. Never worked, but it was still an attempt. No one could ever say Hypnos doesn’t try.

“That it does. But it’s better than greeting every single shade that graces our halls. I pity the fool doing  _ that. _ ”

“Cheers to that!” 

Their half-hearted greeting simmer into the comfortable nothingness known as sitting in the same room together while waiting for their mandated break to be over so they could pretend to enjoy their jobs (save for Hypnos he  _ does  _ enjoy his job usually) for the next however many days they’re on shift for. Whatever.

“Ever been hated by everyone around you?” Hypnos asks out loud. It isn’t really aimed at anyone, least of all Achilles, but when speaking in a room with little more than a fire pit and some rickety tables it’s to be assumed no one else was meant to answer. So Achilles answers.

“Mm… when I was alive everyone around me adored me.” 

( _ Save for your final moments _ , Hypnos thought helpfully to himself)

“Save for the final movements, I suppose.” Achilles continues, unknowingly agreeing.

“I think everyone hates me.” 

“I don’t think everyone hates you Hypnos.”

“Ah. That’s true. I’m sure the shades appreciate me. Let me reword.” Hypnos lounges back on his comforter and floats a bit higher.

“I think my family hates me.”

“Hyp-”

“I think my coworkers hate me. I assume my boss likes me but truthfully he hates me too. He hates everything though so it doesn’t mean much I suppose.”

“...”

“I think Zagreus hates me.”

Achilles is probably staring at him. Hypnos doesn’t particularly care. It’s actually comforting to have someone look and probably listen to him and him alone. 

“I’m just kidding!! I’m kidding Achilles! No one hates me. You have to think about someone to hate them and I assure you— I’m on no one’s mind enough to be hated.” 

Those eyes sit on him and Achilles, for a moment, seems angry. It’s quite hard to place. Perhaps he’s always angry and Hypnos just never cared to look hard. It would explain his constant, terrible nightmares and depressing ass dreams.

“Is there a reason you’ve said all this Hypnos?”

The bottle of nectar Achilles had is half full and currently untouched. Hypnos is somehow almost napping and holding a badly timed conversation with little trouble and as such doesn’t see the expression on Achilles’ face. It’s unimportant.

“Just making conversation with my closest coworker!”

“Do you… want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Bothering me? What makes you think I’m bothered?”

He is. _Bothered_ , that is. 

“So you don’t want to talk? I’m willing to listen lad.”

Hypnos feels a sudden urge to remind Achilles he is _significantly_ older than him. 

“Do you know if Zagreus hates me? You’re like a father to him, if anyone were to know the prince’s deepest secrets it would be you! Or my mom.”

Achilles signs. Hypnos feels himself grow more tired.

“He definitely doesn’t hate you. I can assure you that. On my pride and my honor.”

Hypnos wants to say “yeah, look where those got you” in response but unfortunately for him, he is far too tired and confused about that answer. He doesn’t have the energy to pick apart the things Achilles says, nor does he have the mental strength to go in circles any more today or this millennium. 

He puts his eye mask on and rests, ignoring the smell of honey in his nose and a flash of bright smiles behind his closed lids. His final thought before he goes to work (yes sleep is a job for him. The life of a productive worker never ends) is a simple thought— _ Achilles is a dirty liar.  _

  
-  
  


Imagine his surprise when, the very next day or night or whatever the fuck it was, Zagreus proved how much he hated Hypnos by kissing him in the middle of the lobby— with no prior prompting from Hypnos. 

At least he was right about the lying thing. 


	5. To Be Conflicted (and To Conflict)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hypnos doesn’t have any friends so he can’t exactly poof into the humble, or extravagant, abode of whomever his closest confidant was. He, the second oldest person in the entire fucking house of hades— maybe even the realm, was without a place to call his friend’s own. So he went to the next best thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're near the end!!! once again Thank you all for sticking with this and I apologize for any abrupt changes in pace and tone! This story saw very different phases of my feelings for the characters/story in this game. 
> 
> I can only hope this chapter is something everyone can get some fluff out of.

(5)

The lips of a half-breed prince (which doesn’t really make sense if Hypnos thought about it for even 2 minutes. Lord Hades is still an Olympian, regardless of where he was currently residing himself, and so was the queen of the realm so, technically, Zagreus was nothing but Olympian. Pure god; Pure power. A pure headache) were warm. 

Hypnos, even though he quite literally worked in the center of the earth (surrounded by _nothing but heat)_ , wasn’t used to subtle warmth like this. 

(He was used to scolding hot lava; waves of heat blasting from any given crack in the ground; painful bursts of smoke filling the air constantly; sweltering stares hitting the back of his head at random intervals; scorching glares burned into the front of his head, right into his eyes, for everyone to see from where they happened to be within the house. He was used to the frost-burn of disappointment from a mother and brother who were _… they were…_

 _Ice hurt a lot_. Hypnos came to learn that quickly)

But this wasn’t any of that. 

This was somewhat bloody. A bit gross too. It was warm in a way Hypnos had long since forgotten. It was warm like getting to rest (away from both of his jobs); warm like Hades giving him extra time to nap or leeway when he was late turning things in; warm like when the wreathed broker smiled at him when he traded some concentrated darkness for a little bottle of nectar. It felt like a random act of kindness— without any rhyme or reason. Just being good for the sake of good.

So naturally, Hypnos was terrified. Especially since that goodness was from the polite prince of hell. The very same who pointed out Hypnos had a minor breakdown a few nights (he wasn’t correcting himself anymore, fuck it) prior as if it was a new wallpaper in the hall. 

The fingers of the prince, still painted red with the contents of the pool behind them, held Hypnos’ face so tenderly it almost felt like some kind of ruse— perhaps a trick played on the exhausted god to wake him or to remind him of his place in the social hierarchy of the house (that being at the very, very, very, very, _very_ bottom). If so, the slightest urgency to the kiss (the soft grip holding Hypnos in place, the puff of air coming out of the nose in front of his very own, the ruined carpet Hypnos doesn’t give a single damn about) is startling in a way. It almost, for a millisecond (maybe less), feels like this is a confession of sorts. 

A way to speak without words. To explain with no sound save for the gasp and light scrape of skin on skin. A chance to be seen and to see ( _a familiar sentiment, for one reason or another, Hypnos simply cannot recall at the present moment_ ). It was a hand reaching out from, for the sake of the example let’s say blood, a pool of blood and begging for help and Hypnos thought he might grab it.

But then the hand went back, not because the person drowned but worse, because asking help from someone like Hypnos is as bad as not asking help at all. 

Zagreus leans back. The hands framing his face are gone, as is the blood (shimmering of his face like glitter or ash or something poetic like that) leaving a dull burning in its wake. Hypnos is once again alone in his space with a prince staring at him like he had grown two heads. 

“You’re cold.”

He cannot, for the life of him (whatever that was worth) form any sort of reply past the usual. To save face, for once, he opts for dead silence. 

“You’re cold. And kind. And funny. And your advice does nothing for me. You have ears and you’re taller than you have any right being, especially when you don’t use that height to your advantage. You cry and you feel things just like me or anyone else within these halls.”

Hypnos continues his silence. The shades stare at them and even Lord Hades has gone silent. The queen, he assumes, is watching with bated breath. His mother is listening, Thanatos— wherever he may be, is also tuned in no doubt. 

“I… I’ve fallen for you in ways I didn’t think possible before now. I… you've… I have to know if you feel the same. _About me_.”

Hypnos looks out the corner of his eye and sees Achilles staring at them. He looks excited. Hypnos smiles and yells over to him, joyous as his broken heart would allow—

“You’re a _liar_ , honorable hero of wherever you’re from.”

—And then teleports away. 

-

Hypnos doesn’t have any friends so he can’t exactly poof into the humble, or extravagant, abode of whomever his closest confidant was. He, the second oldest person in the entire fucking house of hades— maybe even the realm, was without a place to call his friend’s own. So he went to the next best thing.

“Gramps you didn’t hear what he said! All the things he’s said… _so many_ things… Commenting on my height and my ears and my ability to feel things like a normal god— it was insulting! humiliating! Un-romantic...”

The being known as Chaos was that of an enigma. They were everything and nothing; impossible to control or deny. They were the god above all gods. 

They were also Hypnos’ grandparent and that was far more important in this situation. 

“Son of Nyx, I do not comprehend where your disappointment comes from. The object of your positive affections, son of Hades, has confessed his affections for you. Those affections of his also correspond with your previously established affections, yes? That is a rhetorical question—do not answer. Why, if the affections truly do correspond, do you sit in front of me so despondent? This is not rhetorical.”

Hypnos really loved Chaos for a number of reasons. The biggest one being that Nyx was his mom and Chaos by that logic was his grandparent and loving your family was important (lest you end up like the _Olympians—_ up there _‘loving your family_ ’ seems to be the root of most of their issues). But more important than familial ties is that Chaos didn’t avoid Hypnos in any capacity of the word. They simply never left their realm for anything or anyone. Hypnos wasn’t ignored, he was just outside the bubble meant for one being. That was fine.

( _That also meant Chaos was the only member of Hypnos’ family that didn’t actively avoid him! That was a major achievement in his books and worthy of a little never-ending respect and love_ ) 

Hypnos fiddles with the fluff on the edges of his robe. The comforter was a gift from… well, it wasn’t a _gift_ . It was given to him. But not as a gift (it would be like saying the parchment scroll he carried around during work was a gift from Hades. Or maybe the plush recliner he got from Zagreus. That wasn’t a _gift,_ it was … it was something else. Anything else. Something Hypnos couldn’t identify). Anyway, he was messing with it as he thought over what Chaos said. They sat in silence for a bit, surrounded by the utter darkness of nothingness and glittering stars. The realm away from all the others was comforting in its secludedness. Here Hypnos wouldn’t be looked at and glared at or thought of at all. 

Something that’s normal and understood to him. 

“I… he just came out of the blue and kissed me, Gramps! Up until about an hour ago, I thought he, _at best_ , kinda- maybe — _sorta_ liked me as a fellow coworker and, at worst, hated my guts entirely and wished for Than to, _I don’t know_ , come over and put me out of my pitiful misery. I was okay with that! One-sided pining is normal for me! I’m not used to whatever this is…”

Chaos is giant and has no concept of personal space. They look down, peering at Hypnos as if he was a particularly interesting bug or maybe a stain on the marble under him, staring. Hypnos thinks they might be looking past him— through him perhaps, but when Hypnos looks behind himself to check Chaos speaks up. Their voice is a low rumble that echoes throughout the realm (which doesn’t make any sense considering the lack of actual walls but is still really cool) and comforts Hypnos in a way he doesn’t usually feel. 

Hasn't in a long time ( _eons and eons and eons and eons and—_ ).

“His affections come to him at a rate in which you can not comprehend. You did not expect him… no, I am misconstruing your words. You did not expect _you_ to experience any form of requited affections. The fault here lies within you, not the son of Hades.”

“Gramps, are you picking favorites too?” Hypno laughs out, feeling his throat close a bit.

“I have no concept of favoritism. All gods are the same underneath me. Though, if I must weigh your importance against his— you outweigh him.”

“Are you saying I’m your favorite Gramps? I love you too!” 

“Let me reiterate. I have no concept of favoritism. All gods are the same under me. Nor do I have a concept of love and the affections that come with it.”

Hypnos could totally feel the warmth in the air… they were connecting … Hypnos was the chosen favorite (he was- Chaos just struggled with explaining simple concepts in less than 10 words) and Chaos loved him. It was nice. This was nice. He was pointedly ignoring the answer he received back. 

“Descendent of myself—”

“My name is Hypnos Gramps! _H-ip-nos!”_

The ground shakes a bit. Hypnos floats and feels none of it. 

“I know your title. Do not interrupt me son of Nyx— _Hypnos.”_

He felt his eyes water. Today just got a bit better. Gramps said his name. 

“ _Hypnos._ You have been scorned before. I have no thoughts on the matter, I find it all quite forgettable, but your emotions are sufficient for your situation. Remove your prior fears and move ahead to accept the affections you wish to accept. The actions of a young god like the son of Hades can be overlooked for a god such as yourself. Go back to the house. Speak to him.”

“... So you’re saying… his previous actions don’t matter because… if we move on and come to accept each other it will all be okay…?”

Hypnos doesn’t think his dear Grandparent Chaos is capable of blinking or breathing. He doesn’t think Chaos can grow bored either but they seemed bored. Luckily they cannot _be_ bored so it didn’t exactly matter what they seemed like— it only mattered what they _were._ And that was a supportive, all-knowing creator of everything ever— always. 

“That suffices.” 

Hypnos can’t stop the smile on his face from taking over. It’s a small thing, but it’s his. Warm and clear and bright. Chaos attempts to smile back but it looks more like a grimace. It could’ve just been a grimace but Hypnos didn’t like that thought so it was actually a very heartwarming smile that just didn’t look right on the face of a god as powerful as Chaos. That worked! 

Hypnos left with a wave, ( _“thanks for the advice Gramps! I love you!”)_ transporting back into the bright red house of Hades. 

-

As he floats back towards his post he pasts Achilles and flips him off, excited to find his half-breed prince. 

(He cannot make it more clear how funny it was to see the shade’s expression both when he left and when he returned. Truly one for the lists. Maybe his ‘ _Top Ten Funniest Faces Achilles Has Made While Reacting to Hypnos On The Job’_ list. That was a good one. Number 4 _will_ surprise you!)

Luckily for him, Zagreus was close as ever, right outside the pool actually, staring wistfully at the empty spot Hypnos usually filled. 

Hypnos floats over and speaks up—

“You’re really, _really_ , unfair Zagreus.” 

—starling Zagreus and making him drop his vintage ambrosia bottle all over the ground— shattering it instantly into a million little sparkling pieces and ruining the newly cleaned carpet, all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed please comment or praise me on Twt (@MrsHaiiba) ! I wanna talk about Hypnos with the world.


End file.
